


Road-Trip

by youheldyourbreath



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 07:28:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9537935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youheldyourbreath/pseuds/youheldyourbreath
Summary: Lydia is driving Stiles down to DC. Which means they're going cross country. And Stiles has some expectations about what driving cross country means: pictures with absurdly sized items. The World's Largest Ball of Twine?  Here they come.





	

Lydia Martin was his girlfriend.

Stiles could scarcely believe it. It had been seven and a half weeks since they'd dispatched the Ghost Riders and Lydia Martin was his girlfriend. And not just in his dreams. No, Lydia was his full fledged girlfriend. Which meant she did girlfriend-like things such as holding his hand, kissing him for no other reason than she was happy to see him and taking naps on his bed while he tried to catch up with two months of missed school work. She did the simple, dumb domestic things he had always fantasized he might do with her one day. 

But being the boyfriend of Lydia Martin had many other wonderful, ridiculous things that he had never anticipated. He got to do things like hold her when she cried and he got to see her without makeup and hold her purse while she went shopping. He got to be fully indoctrinated into Lydia's life. Not just the supernatural part of her life. Or the parts that encompassed friendship. He got the private Lydia Martin and she was spectacular. 

Even when she was kicking him out of her bed at three in the morning because he apparently "snored like a trucker". 

And yet, even that was kind of cute and endearing on her. He liked when her voice was hazy with sleep and her eyes were heavy lidded. He liked every version of Lydia. Hell, he loved every version of her. 

More spectacularly she loved him, too.

Loved him enough to want to drive his ass all the way across country to DC to get him ready for school. George Washington University had a pre-orientation program for all potential FBI students. It meant that he'd have to leave Beacon Hills a lot sooner than he was planning and summer with his friends, and girlfriend, would be cut short but he knew he had to stop looking back at Beacon Hills and start turning toward his future. 

He'd told Scott and he'd been bummed but understood. His father had been harder to convince but he came around. Stiles had left Lydia for last. This new thing they had was fragile and beautiful and he didn't want to shatter it. Leaving her again after she had only just gotten him back had his fears screaming that she would leave him.

She didn't. 

Stiles told her while she was napping in his bed. Her red hair strewn across the pillow she had decided was hers the first night she slept over and over his as well. Lydia, Stiles quickly found out, was a bed hog. 

He laid beside her and tentatively wrapped his arm around his trim waist. His nose found its favorite place in the crook of her neck and he whispered to her, "Lydia? Lydia, are you awake?"

"No," she mumbled, pressing back against him for more proper cuddles. "Sleep time."

Stiles couldn't help the smile that crept up on him, "Okay, sleep time." He fidgeted, "But, uh, before you sleep, I'm going to DC beginning of August instead of at the end for an orientation thingy. Cool. Alright. Night."

Lydia froze in his grasp and wiggled her way around to look him in the eye, "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

The eighteen year old tried his best to play at cool which came out a stuttery mess of incoherent words, "DC orientation....its like a thing....and then Scott's Dad was all sure whatever man and then I said yes. Then Scott was all DUDE WHAT? And my Dad was not happy. And that's how that...happened."

Lydia scrunched his nose and squinted at her boyfriend, "You're leaving me. Again." It wasn't a question. It was cold, hard facts. 

Stiles had the good grace to flinch, "Yes, but, like, not leaving you leaving you. Just going to school earlier than we'd planned."

The redhead buried her face in his chest, wrapped her arms snuggly around him and said the most heart breaking word Stiles had ever heard, "No."

His hands found purchase in her hair and he kissed the crown of her head, "Lydia, we talked about this. I'm only an hour and a half away."

"By a plane," she said weakly, "Nearly eight hours in a car."

"Then," he said, tilting her face to look at him, "We only take planes. We're gonna make this work. We'll just have to make it work sooner than we thought."

Lydia's eyes met his and Stiles felt his whole body soften. Like she was pushing pure light into him. He leaned in for a kiss and she gave him one back. It was like some kind of magic, Lydia Martin actually wanting him. Wanting to kiss him. Wanting him for her own. When they pulled apart she bumped her nose cutely against his freckled one and whispered, "I'm driving you out to DC. I'll help you get settled."

"Lydia," Stiles tried to argue, "It's a long trip and I could always fly-"

"Do you not want to spend all that time with me?" She challenged.

Stiles looked at his girlfriend, his GIRLFRIEND, and shook his head, "I'd love to."

"It's settled, then," Lydia yawned, cuddling back against him, "I'm driving you. Now let me sleep Stiles or I swear God, I'll scream."

And that was how they got here: Stiles and his girlfriend admiring the World's Largest Ball of Twine in Kansas. They were nearly two days into their trip and had seen a lot of the "world's largest" items littered across America. But this was the big one. The main event. 

His girlfriend seemed less than enthused about it. She was standing off to the side of the road, leaning against her red car with a few of his boxes visible from the back seat through the window, reapplying her lipstick. Stiles crossed to his girlfriend and waved a hand in front of her face, obstructing the view of her mirror, "Earth to Lydia. Twine is over there."

She rolled her eyes, "It's just a big ball of yarn."

"Twine," Stiles corrected.

Lydia tilted her eyes up to him, her gaze unimpressed, "It's nearly the same thing."

"Twine is stronger than yarn. Yarn is thin."

"Well, so is my patience. We've been in Cawker City for nearly an hour. Less than 500 people live here, Stiles. 500. I wanna go."

"Or," Stiles offered, "We could grab food at Jaybird's Chicken. That sounds fun."

"It sounds like the night locked up in the bathroom. We need to get back on the road."

Stiles tried again, "Or we could stay."

Lydia impatiently threw her hands to her hips, "Why?"

He snapped, "I don't want get there too soon. Okay?" He slumped against her car door, "I don't wanna get there so soon."

Lydia's entire face dawned in realization and Stiles was thankful he didn't have to say it. He felt stupid and silly for wanting to drag this out as long as possible. He knew, he'd reassured her himself, that they were going to make this work. But the closer they crept to DC the more he felt like his old life was shrinking away and he was gripped with fear that Lydia might go away with it.

She was his girlfriend. That sentence was miraculous to him. He didn't want it to change to Lydia Martin was his ex-girlfriend.

The redhead boxed him against her car, her arms slid around his neck and she leaned against him sweetly, "You know what? I kind of like the twine."

Stiles raised an eyebrow at her, "You do?"

She nodded, "Oh yeah. It's like string and string makes me think of you and I like you. So I like the twine."

"That's a pretty long winded way to say that."

"Let me talk, Stiles," she reprimanded. 

"Right, sorry."

She shook out her hair and leaned up to kiss his jaw, "There's a guest house nearby we could stay at for the night. If you wanna stay near the ball of yarn."

"Twine," he retorted, breathless. He could almost feel her impatience with him grow but she did not stop kissing his jaw. "It's twine," he repeated.

"Stiles," she snipped, "Do you wanna go have sex or should I leave you out here with the twine."

"No, no," he said, "Screw the yarn."

She finally found his lips and kissed him chastely, "It's twine."

The great yarn-twine debate continued after they managed to pry themselves apart against her car. They fought about it as they drove to the lodging while Stiles rested his hand on his girlfriend's knee, they fought about it as they parked and Lydia trapped Stiles in for another kiss, they fought about it as they lovely attendant gave them the key to where they were staying, they fought about it when they entered the room. They only stopped fighting about it when the door clicked behind them and Stiles had his greedy hands all over her. 

She moaned into his mouth and he promised himself that he would never forget that sound. All of the lonely nights in DC he was going to reply that noise. He wanted it burned into his memory. After years of pining after Lydia Martin he now knew what she sounded like when she wanted him back. Again, Lydia Martin was his girlfriend and it was incredible. 

Another thing he learned about Lydia Martin when she became his girlfriend, beyond the fact that she was a bed hog and what she looked like without makeup, was that she was always eager for him. It made him want to dance with delight. She impatiently shrugged off his flannel and hissed against his mouth angrily, "Why do you always have to wear two shirts? Flannel is enough."

"It's my look. Let me have my look, Lydia."

"I wear skirts for your easy access. The least you could do is wear one shirt for me."

Stiles hoisted her up around his waist and traveled backward toward the bed that looked, at best, questionable. "Oh my god, Lydia. Stop talking."

"It's yarn," she quipped.

He grinned against her mouth boyishly, "Definitely twine."

"Oh my god, Stiles," she keened. Her body arched up against his and went to work unbuttoning her dress. It really was the most wonderful invention. He loved this dress. It made her look soft and lovely and had buttons all the way down the front of it. He brushed the fabric aside once it was unfastened and kissed at her stomach. She wiggled in the way that she was want to do when he took his time. Or at least that was what she always called it. He didn't feel like he was going slow at all. He burned for her, burned all over. But her ex-boyfriends spent too much time kissing her and taking her up against whatever surface they could find. Even when Stiles was frantic he couldn't help but want to kiss her everywhere. Massage her with his mouth to wipe away all of the pain and the hurt that she had bottled up inside from meaner boys than him and their touches.

He spent the next several minutes kissing every piece of freckled skin that was laid out bare before him. Lydia always laughed when he kissed just above her belly button and he loved that sound. He made sure to kiss that spot longer than the others. She pushed him away from her stomach, "Stop it. It tickles."

Stiles looked up at her and her face was flushed red with laughter and desire. He crawled up over her body to cage her in and stripped his undershirt off, tossing it aside. She trailed her hands down his shoulders to his forearms, "Mine."

"Most definitely," he agreed, kissing her hard. His mouth searched hers for all of the mysteries of the universe. The only answers he found there was that he knew nothing at all. Only that she was real and here and his. 

Lydia returned each bruising kiss and reached between them, tugging at Stiles' belt. When she finally got that undone she shucked his jeans and boxers down around his ankles with her hands and then with her feet. He chuckled into her mouth as absorbed her annoyed noises into his lips. He broke their kiss and cocked his eyebrow down at her, "I'm still wearing my shoes. They're not gonna come all the way off. Hang on." 

He reluctantly pulled up and off of her before taking his shoes and clothes to task. He felt her eyes on his back as she waited for him to return to her. Once he was fully naked, he turned around and got an eyeful of his girlfriend. Her dress was still on but worn more like a jacket than a dress now. Her bra was, unfortunately, still firmly in place but her underwear had magically disappeared. He spotted them in the corner with his flannel. 

It troubled him that his flannel and her underwear on the ground turned him on even more. 

 

He pounced on her. Lydia was breathless under him. They writhed against each other a little longer until Stiles could no longer handle it, "Lydia, can I?"

She moaned out, "There has got to be a hotter way to ask for consent."

He snapped their lips apart and gazed down at her, "Lydia, you want me to fuck you into this bed?"

Her eyes pooled darkness, "Yes. Oh my god." Stiles didn't need any more go ahead, he reached between them, lined their bodies up and pressed himself into her. She cried against his mouth. Little, beautiful whimpers brushed out of her lips and against his. 

He hesitated for a moment, enjoying just the feeling of them joined at the hip, before he began to move. Lydia stopped kissing him then and his face buried into her neck. Long, hard strokes passed between them and the room filled with the sound of flesh. 

It went quickly from there. 

The two of them moved against each other in a practiced, familiar way. Stiles' body covering hers almost completely. She was so small like this and she, ever the warrior, did not let her size stop her. Lydia rolled her hips up against his until he too was groaning. 

He could feel himself building up, like a string (or twine) was being drawn out tight and he needed that string to snap. Their movements became hectic, crazed. 

His mouth found kisses on her shoulder. "Oh Stiles," she cried. "Stiles, I'm close."

"You can let go," he ground out, his jaw tight with tension. "I got you. Let go, Lydia." And he felt, and heard, her lose herself. She sobbed out his name and he felt her flutter and tighten around him. Her legs squeezed his waist impossibly close to him and Stiles wanted to cry himself. She was pulling him under and he drowned in his own release. 

His back shook until he collapsed on top of her. Their ragged breathing was the only noise the room made now.

She was perfect. Absolute perfection. And, dammit, he loved her so much.

Stiles kissed her cheek and she turned her face to capture him in a tired kiss. Lazily, they explored each other's mouths in the post-glow of sex. They pulled apart and Lydia cupped his face, "I love you."

"I love you, too," he said, almost instinctively. 

The following morning Lydia and Stiles were on the road to DC once more. Lydia was behind the driver's seat as they passed the impossibly large ball of twine. She rolled her eyes, "I hate that stupid ball of yarn."

"It's yarn, Lydia," Stiles grinned, big. "And you better get pumped. We have a lot more world's biggest to look at. DC even has the world's largest duncan phyfe chair."

"Why am I dating you, again?" she said, glancing at him.

"Because you love me."

Fondly, she kept her eyes on him, "Yeah, I do." 

And that, Stiles thought, was the most incredible thing about the sentence: Lydia Martin was his girlfriend.


End file.
